Logs:Higher Command
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| RL Date: 8 July, 2015 |
| Who: Euphemia, Ka'ge |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Euphemia finds Ka'ge to talk about his success and give his next directive, he shows his true colors. |
| Where: Nighthearth, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 16, Month 3, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Dee/Mentions, J'ayn/Mentions, Katriona/Mentions, Lilah/Mentions |
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>---< Nighthearth, Fort Weyr(#2044RJs$) >------------------------------------< An irregular archway leads into the alcove that houses the Nighthearth. This cozy little nook contains a hearth, protected by a grate that can be used to prop chilled feet to warm on cold days, that is surrounded with a several leather, upholstered chairs. A small table pushed against the same wall as the hearth is kept stocked at all times with fresh, hot klah, a pot of stew, and a basket of baked goods including breads and both savory and sweet filled rolls. The Weyr's aunties also keep the space supplied with a stack of perpetually renewed afghans in interesting color choices, while the Headwoman's staff ensures that some of the older towels are always on hand on a row of hooks for riders ducking in off of sweeps in bad weather. Otherwise, the Nighthearth is undecorated but for the motley collection of mismatched mugs, bowls, and spoons that line the mantel for general use. It's a delicate balance between finding alone time and taking time to listen to what's going on in the Weyr, given the rare times that seem to be becoming shorter and rarer that Zymadiath sleeps and Ka'ge can go off on his own. Locations are limited, too, given they usually need to be paired with the opportunity to find a meal. At least he's used to going some amount of time without. Ka'ge chose quiet this afternoon before the evening rush takes place for dinner. Habitual glance over his shoulder preludes stepping into the nighthearth, a finger and thumb tugging his hood into place. The tray always found by the hearth has been picked at, not quite straight out of the kitchen, but he's not picky. He stands by it for longer than typical of someone deciding that tough decision between a cooled meatroll or just a drink, likely most lost in thought than actually caring that much. Eventually, he takes a mug. The wakening sentiment of klah apparently is preferable. The day's not over yet. It's with the arrogance of youth that Euphemia swaggers into the nighthearth, making much of shoving away the attentions of a brownrider who tries to grab her around the waist, his efforts swatted at with hands and nudged at with hips, her laughter (too?) bright as she finally manages to get him to leave off and leave her be. The moment he's gone, the laughter doesn't fade, it just /stops/, cut off abruptly, just as the greenrider's features fall into sterner lines. When she smiles, it's not so - she /smirks/ and moves to lounge against one of the chairs, leaning against its back. "Well, you did better than Jay. A bronze. Who'd have thought?" Ka'ge's turn is a slow and deliberate one that started around the time Euphemia had successfully fended off the brownrider and ends when she begins addressing him. Maybe it's not her voice that is familiar first as the change in his face- a slight furrowing of his brow, a narrowing of his eyes- comes with that light of recognition at seeing her. Gaze slips up and down, slowly, searchingly, finishing on her face with his own smirk that's more dangerous than amused joins the lines of his expression. "Aye, who'd have thought. Euphemia, a pleasure." His sarcasm is no different, his head dipping in a bow that may as much be true as a mocking of it. "A step in the right direction." is as much a question as a statement in regards to the 'success'. "I forget what they're calling you now." Only Ephie clearly hasn't, given her low, mocking tone. "Or did you manage to rebrand yourself before he did it for you?" Her hands, resting atop the chair, she slowly turns inwards and towards her, letting their silvery scars fall beneath her own shadow. "Depends what you make of him, doesn't it, whether it's a /step/ at all. Depends what you do. Whether you're going to assimilate or be useful." Her smirk touches just the wrong side of sweet. "We do like boys who are useful." A breathy chuckle follows her mocking, his grin broadening just a bit. Ka'ge raises a hand slightly, an 'innocent' sort of thing. "Zymadiath gave me Ka'ge. I wasn't so certain as that." To brand himself, as it were. The mug, so recently poured, is abandoned as he takes a step towards the greenrider. It can be assumed for volume's sake, though the way his head is tipped, almost shading his eyes completely beneath the edge of his hood, there's a semblence of respect. "I do as I'm instructed." And, it can be implied, he doesn't mean by the Weyr. His tone is low, even if he still claims that smirk he'd had before even as that's said with an unmistakable certainty. "I spoke with Katriona not too long after she brought me. Seems she isn't anymore?" Useful, that is. "Kat has done more than you have. Maybe more than you will." Ephie shrugs, the motion not one that manages to take any of the weight from her words, nor make them sound dismissive. Only then does she looks Ka'ge over properly, before lifting her gaze to the walls around them. "Ironic," she decides, of his name. "Ka'ge." A moment's amusement and nothing more, and perhaps not even that. She could be talking about the weather for all the lightness of her tone when she tells - more than asks - him, "I'm sure you understand the necessity of continuing to follow instructions... if we're to make progress." "Perhaps." But there's caution with that, a control of what he says to her, and no more speaking of the 'others'. "The dragon is as well." Ironic, and not what he expected is what that says in fewer words. Ka'ge doesn't lift his head, as if allowing the assessment and the words without complaint. Only after she's done would he speak again. "Of course." The sarcasm has left his voice, "I'm in contact with my master, but not-" He chooses against speaking so openly as to identify her by her father, "Insofar as I'm aware, I'm to participate in weyrlinghood as expected. The length of time is unfortunate." A pause, before he adds, "Is there something more?" Even though those ties to the man go ultimately unmentioned, Euphemia cannot fail to understand Ka'ge's meaning, and the tension that claims her sturdy form only serves to make her all the more intense and worlds away from the girl who was laughing with that brownrider. "We all had to do the same," she declares, somewhat tightly. "Anything else would've drawn attention. But you've got in your class what we didn't have in ours." She waits, providing a moment to draw conclusions, then clarifies, "A goldrider." The twitch of her lips is utterly humourless. "One who isn't doing so well, sounds like." Ka'ge eventually draws his head up so that he may look at her beyond his self-made shadows, the look on his face undoubtably different that the mischief-making arrogant boy of the barracks. At first there's no tension, just a deadly seriousness that speaks of his initial role. His agreement to her confirmation goes unspoken, but when she starts to talk about the newest goldrider, he counts himself lucky he's got a good poker face. Shaded bluegreen eyes follow Euphemia, but that's the only thing about him that moves. "She doesn't get along well with Taeliyth." He keeps it impersonal, "They just need time." "We don't care what they need." Her response is almost immediate, her shrug sharp. "If her gold rises first, she's Weyrwoman. And if you manage to stay close to her and love her and adore her," all said so scornfully that it almost screws up Ephie's features to utter them at all, "guess what might happen?" She doesn't bother to elaborate this time, and simply settles for letting that smirk return. "I don't care if you can't stand her. Yeah, it's easier when they're pretty and fun in bed, and hey, maybe she might be and you'll be lucky, but you need to keep her close. The next best thing to one of /us/ riding gold is you..." The crude remark doesn't make it to airing, but it's close enough, perhaps. Ka'ge may give away the slightest flinch at her immediate response if she's watching him close enough; he knew better. Knows better. "Anything can happen between now and then. Right now she shows interest in me." His tone implies nothing of his own intentions, though the breath of a hesitation may, "With the weyrlingmasters around and the rules.." He needn't go into detail, she'd been through all of it recently enough. "And if Eliyaveith rises first, as seems to be the current majority's thought, I don't expect Zymadiath would catch. It will delay us further." "Then just make sure she doesn't show interest in anyone else." Ephie's smirk is a little wobbly now, his flinch answered by amusement that she struggles to suppress. "I'm not saying you should be sneaking into each other's cots. ...Unless it's necessary to hold her interest until it's /allowed/. Wouldn't hurt for you to make nice with Lilah too. I'd rather we didn't just have to hope for her to fuck up." Her huff of laughter is more wordless exclamation than amusement. "If you need /practice/... you wouldn't be the first I've deflowered." Such is the assumption she makes of him, something a little predatory in her gaze. "Be a good boy, for now. There'll be more for you to do. There always is. I'll find you." That, it seems, is all she has for Ka'ge for now, for she pushes away from the chair with the intention of heading back out to the living cavern, sway of her hips loosening with each step. Ka'ge watches, listens again wordlessly, the air about him stilled and dangerous, coiled yet chained before one who is clearly in charge. It's only when the instruction seems to be winding down, that he draws on that smug mask, the hints of its drawing the edges of his lips into a grin that seems off in the light of his still-narrowed gaze. "I will manage." To what part of that his statement is to is uncertain, though the lines at the edges of his eyes denoting the beginnings of amusement may indicate towards her offer of practice. It's not a decline, that, but doesn't seem to give into her assumptions. With that is a bow of his head, the same small tilt that isn't with flourish but notable for what it is. "You need only call." Follows her as she turns to return to the caverns beyond. |
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